


Hell is Other People in Yorkshire

by aura218



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Baby, Family, Ficlet, Fluff, Hospital, Kinkmeme, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse, alpha!douglas, minifill, mum!martin, newmum!martin, omega!martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 17:05:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aura218/pseuds/aura218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stupid-cute little fluffer in which Martin and Douglas gaze upon the perfection of their new baby, and dread the arrival of The Extended Family. Kink meme response. Omegaverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell is Other People in Yorkshire

**Author's Note:**

> In response to [this kink meme prompt](http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/4885.html?thread=6738453#cmt6738453) asking to fill a scene "Douglas, standing behind Martin, with his arms around Martin's waist. Martin, with his arms holding Douglas' arms in place, leaning his head back to look at Douglas' face. And smiling, of course, because they're both ridiculously happy."

Douglas insisted on pushing Martin's wheelchair down to the nursery, but he swatted away Douglas' oppressively proffered hands as he stood. He was fine, for heaven's sake. He wasn't the first man to give birth, he could stand at the nursery window on his own two legs.

Beth Israel Medical Center was private, progressive, and catered to omegas' preferences. Parents could come and go at the nursery as they pleased; beta nurses brought the baby to the private recovery room whenever a parent requested her, and alpha doctors popped by once a day. There was even a lactation consultant who helped Martin when he despaired that the baby couldn't latch to his barely swollen breasts. It wasn't like the London hospital where Douglas' first child was born twelve years ago, when the baby was shuttled in and out on a strict feeding schedule, the doctors hid in the staff-only nursery, and omegas' instincts were constantly dictated over as if they were dangerously unscientific. 

A lot had changed in just ten years.

Unsurprisingly, Douglas came up behind Martin and wrapped his arms around his soft middle. Martin could see his refection in the window, the silly look he was giving the confused-looking pink bundle in the lasagna pan. Martin supposed it was hormones or something, that being held like that felt so perfect and right.

"She can't actually see you, you know," Martin said. "The book says she won't distinguish faces for a month. You're just a big lumpy gorilla to her."

Douglas' 'hrrumph' vibrated against his back. "Nonsense. She's brilliant. Look at those other babies, just lying there. She's thinking. She's taking in this amazing new world and assimilating its wonders into her rapidly pruning and restructuring brain."

"I think she's having a poo."

"Also requires higher brain function. For a twelve-hour-old infant."

Martin chuckled. He twisted around and looked up. Douglas' eyes were carrying heavy baggage, but they were soft, happy. He leaned down and they kissed. 

Douglas' phone buzzed in his pocket. "That's Mathilda. I told her to text when she got on the train. And Carolyn said Herc was bringing GERT-I home this evening. I think we're about to get very popular. How long did you say your sister was staying with us?"

Martin leaned his head back against his husband's chest, feeling Douglas rest his chin on top of it. "I don't know. Until we kick her out."

He shifted his weight, back and forth, as he folded his hands over Douglas', over the pooch of his stomach that held a human life just a few hours ago. 

"Let's take her back to the room," Martin said. "I don't want to be 'on' for anyone else yet."

"Are you all right? Are you feeling the post-partum -- or is it the feeding --?"

"I'm fine, Douglas. I'd tell you if anything was wrong, I promise. I just want to hold her, with you, before she becomes a carnival ride to pass around and well meaning women start telling us all the things men and alphas and omegas don't know about babies. Can we just sit with our baby alone for a few more hours?"

Douglas kissed him again, still holding him firmly against his broad chest. "Of course. As much as you like. And I promise you, if I hear one untoward word about your mothering skills, your sister will be back on the train to wherever the hell she came from."

"Hell, actually. Or Yorkshire."

"Indeed."

Bethany Ann Richardson was very much awake on her parents' arms for the rest of the afternoon, and had some things to say about the new world outside her mummy's tummy (she didn't like it, so cold and so dry). And she so totally could tell the big one apart from the one with the milk.


End file.
